The Doomsday Chronicles
by El Kaye
Summary: The Kids from C.A.P.E.R. are told by a psychic that Doomsday is fated to destroy the world, and this prediction seems destined to come true when they learn Doomsday unknowingly holds the trigger to a mad man's destructive device!
1. Act One

The secret word is: "Cheese"

What an exciting period in history this is for the city of Northeast Southweston! For the first time ever, our burgeoning borough is hosting the exciting and exuberant World Expo. Okay, technically it's the Northeast Southweston World Expo. And no, it hasn't been sanctioned by the Bureau of International Expositions. But nevertheless our bustling town is bristling with the buzz of this exciting event. Which means that C.A.P.E.R. is on alert and standing by for any possible problems pervasive with such potential pandemonium.

"Nice alliteration, P.T.," Doc noted.

"Thank you," I replied.

"What kind of potential pandemonium are we talking about?" Bugs asked worriedly. "Long lines at the concession stands?"

"Events like this are magnets for kooks, crazies and criminals," I pointed out.

"And they make up the overall attendance?" Bugs asked. "I think I'll stay home."

"Sgt. Vinton told us to be on alert," I reminded them. "No telling what could happen."

The turquoise telephone began to ring. Bugs made a grab for it at the same time I did and we wrestled over the receiver until finally we silently agreed to do hands for it. Bugs placed his hand above mine and I placed mine above his until finally I came out on top. "Typical," Bugs sighed as he relinquished the receiver, "It's always for you."

I lifted the receiver to my ear. "C.A.P.E.R."

A maniacal laugh came over the phone.

"Did someone place a wake-up call with Dial-a-Joke?" I asked.

"No," Bugs and Doc answered.

"Then this could mean trouble," I said, waiting for the laughter to stop, which it finally did.

"Prepare to face your most daunting challenge yet!" a man's voice warned. "If you fail to stop me, Northeast Southweston will rue the day it decided to host a World Expo!" The voice laughed again.

"Who are you?" I demanded to know.

"I am the Chameleon of Chaos!" the man laughed.

"Chameleon of Chaos?" I asked. I looked to Bugs and Doc, who both shook their heads with disapproval. "That's not a very good name."

"It's not?" the man asked, startled.

"No," I confirmed. "It doesn't roll off the tongue easily. Try it . . . Chameleon of Chaos."

The man repeated the name, as did Bugs and Doc.

"Too many syllables," Doc agreed.

"And how many people even know how to spell chameleon?" Bugs pointed out.

"I thought it was rather catchy," the man said in a hurt tone.

"No, trust us. It'll never sell," I said. "Think about it and get back to us when you have a better name picked out." With that I hung up the phone. "That'll keep him busy for a while."

"I wonder what's keeping Doomsday," Bugs wondered.

"He'll be here any minute," I assured them.

"And what about the girl?" Doc asked.

"She should be here any minute, too," I said.

"I wonder who will be the love interest this time?" Bugs thought aloud.

We all straightened our clothes and our hair and stood, waiting for the girl's entrance.

Right on cue the door of the C.A.P.E.R. room opened and an old woman stumbled in. She was dressed in a broomstick skirt and lacy top with ruffles everywhere and wore a bandana around her head. She wore a long hoop earring in one ear and several of her teeth were missing. "The end is nigh!" she screamed in a cackling voice.

Doc, Bugs and I shared a look then pointed at one another, saying, "It's your turn!"

The woman advanced on Bugs, who backed away from her nervously. "Doomsday!" she cried.

"No, I'm Bugs," Bugs assured her. "Doomsday isn't here yet!"

"Doomsday is near!" she screeched as she ran to me.

"Oh good, we were just wondering where he was," I said.

"Doomsday is coming for all of us!" she cried as she ran to Doc.

"Really?" Doc asked. "Where's he going to take us?"

The woman looked at each of us in turn with a sneer. "You do not appreciate the meaning of my words," she hissed, advancing on me again. "Doomsday is approaching!"

I hesitated, not knowing what I could say that wouldn't set her off again. "Um, ma'am? It's okay, really. Doomsday's not so bad."

"He's a little scatter-brained at times," Doc admitted.

"And he eats like there's no tomorrow," Bugs added.

"There _is_ no tomorrow!" the woman shouted.

"Well, technically that's true," Doc agreed. "If you consider the fact that tomorrow never _really_ comes."

The woman held her head as if she were in pain. "Oh, Ida! Ida!" she cried.

A young woman, dressed in a similar skirt and top but with a much more modern look, entered the room.

"My turn!" Doc, Bugs and I all announced.

"What is it, Mama?" the girl asked the woman.

"These boys . . . they do not understand!" the woman cried.

The young girl looked at us with surprise. "Didn't she tell you about her vision?"

"She must have problems with her vision because she thought I was Doomsday," Bugs noted.

"My name is Ida Teller and this is my mother, Fortuna Teller," the girl explained. "We came to see you because Mama has been having terrible visions of the future, or lack thereof. And her visions are usually very accurate!"

"You mean she has 20/20 visions?" I asked.

"Tell them, Mama," Ida coaxed.

The woman looked skeptical, then began, motioning with her hands to some far-off spot on the horizon. "I foresee the end of the world! Brought about by innocent hands! The world will be destroyed! It is Doomsday!"

We were all looking intently in the direction which she was motioning.

"All I see is a smudge on the wall," Bugs said, walking over to wipe at it with his sleeve.

Doc shook his head and went back to reading his book.

"This is all very interesting," I said. "But what makes you think this will actually happen?"

"Fortuna Teller is never wrong!" the old woman jabbed her painted fingernail into my chest.

"Well, a few more details might help," I suggested. "Like _how_ exactly this is going to happen. And _what_ exactly is going to happen."

"I can only tell you what I tell you." Fortuna Teller crossed her arms with indignation.

"At least until you get paid, right?" Doc asked sarcastically.

"You doubt Fortuna Teller?" the woman asked in shock.

"I doubt everything to do with fortune telling, soothsayers and the likes," Doc assured her. "It's all a scam."

"How dare you insult my mother?" Ida turned on Doc, who had his face behind his book again. She stormed up to him, yelling, "My mother isn't some run-of-the-mill phoney psychic! My mother's visions are real! And if you . . . "

Ida pulled the book down to look Doc in the face. Even though she was yelling at him, he smiled at her. "And if you . . . oh my . . . !"

"What is that?" Fortuna suddenly exclaimed, cupping a hand to her ear. "Do I hear church bells ringing?"

Doc took Ida's hand in his.

"Ah!" Fortuna exclaimed. "Now it sounds like a thousand violins!"

Doc stared into Ida's eyes.

"And now the sound of thundering hoofbeats fills the air!" Fortuna gasped. She rushed over to Doc and Ida and forced them apart. "No! No, this skeptic will not seduce my daughter!"

"Oh, but Mama!" Ida whined in protest.

"Yeah, come on, Mama," Doc said gently, smiling at her.

Fortuna pushed the book back up in front of Doc's face and snarled, "You, keep your eyes to yourself and off my daughter!" The old woman pushed her daughter towards the door. "I don't know why we come here!"

"Mama, _you're_ the one who said we should come here," Ida reminded her. "You said this is where we would find the key to your prediction."

"Then I was wrong!" Fortuna stated.

"I thought you were never wrong," Doc pointed out, then quickly hid behind his book.

"Come, child," Fortuna huffed and they turned to leave.

Just then Doomsday came in through his secret entrance carrying several candy bars. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "I just stopped upstairs to get some snacks."

"Oh!" Fortuna exclaimed, pushing Ida aside and running to Doomsday, raising her hands to him. "Oh! It is the harbinger of destruction!"

"No, it's just a Sky Bar," Doomsday explained. "I also got a Marathon Bar and a Choco-Lite . . . "

"He is the one!" Fortuna shouted to us.

"Yes, that's Doomsday," I confirmed.

"So now you believe me?" Fortuna cried.

"That's his name," I explained patiently. "Doomsday."

Fortuna looked at Doomsday with terror in her eyes. "Then it is irrefutable!"

Doomsday looked confused. "No, it's chocolate," he said, holding up the Sky Bar. "But it's got four different flavors inside. I suppose one could be irrefutable. I like the caramel myself."

"He will bring about the end of the world!" Fortuna cried.

"You're taking his name too literally," I sighed. "Sure, Doomsday sometimes thinks he's cursed, but he wouldn't destroy the world. He's too nice."

"I tell you, this boy will destroy the world!" Fortuna insisted.

The turquoise telephone began to ring again. "Hold that thought," I said, and I picked up the receiver. "C.A.P.E.R."

A familiar voice laughed, then said, "You're greatest challenge now begins! But I promise, you will have no chance to defeat me! I will make fools of all of you! Of the entire city!"

"Who is this?" I demanded to know.

"This is the Masqueraded Marauder!" the voice laughed.

"Who?" I asked with confusion.

"Formerly the Chameleon of Chaos," the voice explained seriously.

"Oh!" I remembered, then frowned. "Oh. Masqueraded Marauder?" I looked at Doc and Bugs, who looked like they'd eaten something distasteful. "That's all you could come up with?"

"It still has the same amount of syllables," Doc noted.

"Actually I think Chameleon of Chaos might have been a tiny bit better," Bugs added.

"I don't care what you think!" the voice said angrily. "I am going to do something that will cause the city a great deal of expense and embarrassment if you don't accurately decipher my clues."

"I'm still trying to decipher your name," I said.

"Silence!" the voice ordered. "Now listen carefully: Follow my clues, although they be tricky;

or else at the Expo things will get sticky."

I waited for him to continue, but there was only silence. "That's it?" I asked with surprise.

"For now," the man chuckled. "I'll be in touch."

At the sound of the dial tone I hung up. "I don't know who this guy really is, but I think he's serious," I told the others. "He's giving us clues and if we don't decipher them correctly he promises that something bad's going to happen."

"What clues?" Doc asked.

"The first one is: Follow my clues, although they be tricky; or else at the Expo things will get sticky."

"Well, whoever he is, he's no literary scholar," Bugs scoffed.

"Well, it's obvious," Doc sighed. "Our unimaginative friend is clearly going to target the Expo. But when and how?"

"He said he'd be in touch," I said. "I suppose to give us more clues."

"And hopefully a better name!" Bugs added.

"This definitely sounds like a job for C.A.P.E.R.," I stated.

"Just what does that stand for exactly?" Ida asked.

We stood at attention and recited together, "The Civilian Authority for the Protection of Everybody, Regardless."

"Tadaa!" sang Doc.

"Tadaa!" sang Doomsday.

"Tadaa!" sang Bugs.

"Tadaa!" I finished, then added my own flair to the end until Fortuna jabbed her finger into my chest to stop me.

"It might prove preemptive of us to send someone to the Expo to scout around," Doc suggested.

"Good idea, Doc," I agreed. "Bugs and Doomsday, you can go to the Expo and keep an eye on things from there."

"Oh boy!" Doomsday said happily, pocketing his candy bars for later. "The Expo! Do they have food there?"

"Hello?? End of the world???" Fortuna cried, reminding us of her presence.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "But this matter is more pressing. And this guy is actually giving us clues to go on."

"Unlike some people, who are obviously clueless," Bugs added in a biting tone.

"Oh yeah?" Fortuna sneered under her breath to Bugs. She fixed him with a serious stare, then smirked. "I hope you're feeling as smug when your rear end catches fire . . . "

"What was that?" Bugs asked.

"Oh, I didn't say anything!" Fortuna cried innocently. "What do I know? I'm just a clueless, crazy woman! Although I'm not going to have an award-winning scientist threaten my life, either."

"Who would do that?" Bugs demanded to know.

Fortuna snapped her fingers at Bugs as her way of dismissing him, then turned to her daughter as she motioned to Doomsday. "You keep an eye on that boy! Don't let him out of your sight!"

"You're going to let her spend the day with us?" Doc asked hopefully.

"And keep your eye on that boy, too!" Fortuna warned. "Or rather, _don't_ keep your eye on him!" Fortuna wheeled dramatically, giving Doomsday a wary eye before exiting the room.

"Nice woman," Doomsday smiled. "Maybe we can pick up some irrefutable for her at the Expo."

* * *

As we climbed into the Big Bologna, Seymour (that's my nose) wrinkled with disgust. "Oh, it smells like rotten fish in here!" I complained. "Hasn't anyone cleaned out Mr. Featherstone's tank lately?"

"I just cleaned it yesterday, P.T.," Doomsday assured me.

I decided to drive and the others took their seats. Ida sat next to Doomsday and Doc sat next to Ida. As we headed to the Expo, Ida tried very hard to ignore Doc, keeping her eyes on Doomsday instead.

"Tell me something," Doc asked her, "Do you really believe in your mother's predictions?"

"Mama's predictions have been strangely accurate," Ida assured him, still keeping her eyes on Doomsday. "She predicted Innsbruck would be the site of the Winter Olympics this year. And she predicted that 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest' would win best picture."

"Don't tell me," Doc smirked, "She also predicted that 1976 would be the year of the American Bicentennial."

"Mama was right about you," Ida complained, still keeping her eyes away from Doc. "You are nothing but a skeptic."

"You have to admit that it's a pretty big leap, going from Oscar predictions to foretelling the end of the world," Doc pointed out.

"People don't understand Mama," Ida admitted. "But that doesn't mean she's wrong!"

"Well, in this case I do hope she's wrong," Doc said, taking Ida's hand in his. "I hope Doomsday doesn't destroy the world, because then we won't have as much time to spend together."

Ida couldn't resist looking into Doc's eyes and she immediately melted.

"I think Doc and Ida would appreciate it if you could hold off destroying the world for a while, Doomsday," Bugs nudged him.

"What's all this about me destroying the world?" Doomsday asked with confusion.

"Don't worry about it, Doomsday," I called from the driver's seat. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about." The last thing I wanted Doomsday to worry about was potentially destroying the world when we had a job to do.

At last the Big Bologna pulled up to the Expo entrance. I unbuckled my seat belt and met the others in back.

"Okay, keep your eyes open for anything suspicious," I said as I handed Bugs and Doomsday their C.A.P.E.R. band radios. "If you find anything out of the ordinary, contact us. We'll go back to headquarters and wait for further clues from what's-his-name."

"Right," Bugs and Doomsday nodded, and they stepped out of the vehicle.

Ida started to exit after them but Doc stopped her. "Are you going with them?" he asked with surprise.

"I promised Mama I'd keep my eye on Doomsday," she explained sadly, then she hurried to catch up with them as they walked to the entrance gates.

Doc look disappointed as he took his place in the passenger seat beside me.

"Cheer up," I said as I turned the key in the ignition. "You'll get to see her again soon enough."

"Not if the world is destroyed," Doc sighed.

"Are you kidding?" I asked with surprise.

Doc gave me half a smile and admitted, "Sometimes I try."

We were halfway back to the police station when we both heard a crackling sound from the back of the van followed by laughter.

"What is that?" I asked.

"Sounds like someone laughing over the radio in the back," Doc noted. "Pull over."

I pulled the Big Bologna over to the side of the road and we hurried into the back where I picked up the radio microphone as a familiar voice snickered, "It won't be long now! Foolish kids, you'll never stop me!"

"Who is this?" I demanded to know.

"This is the Dastardly Distributor of Discord!" the voice laughed.

"Who?" I asked with confusion.

"Formerly the Masqueraded Marauder," the man explained seriously. "Previously the Chameleon of Chaos?"

"Oh," I realized. "Oh wow. You're really having trouble coming up with a good name, aren't you?"

"But I . . . " the voice protested with frustration.

"This new one's even longer than the others!" Doc scoffed.

"You'll be sorry you ever mocked me when I unleash my fury on the masses!" the man promised. "So you'd better listen carefully to my next clue: I can set off the chaos when I'm in the mood; The trigger is sweet and has altitude."

"That's not half bad," Doc admitted.

"Good luck, C.A.P.E.R. brats," the voice laughed. "Oh, and your radios will self-destruct in five seconds."

"What??" Doc and I asked in shock.

We stepped back from the radio and were startled when a large puff of smoke came up out of it. Smaller puffs of smoke came up out of our handheld units as well.

"What was that?" I cried, coughing and waving away the smoke.

"Apparently he tampered with our radios so he could cause them to self-destruct," Doc noted.

"But how could he have gotten into the Big Bologna to sabotage our radios?" I cried. "Wouldn't Mr. Featherstone have stopped him?"

Suddenly things clicked in my mind and I walked over to Mr. Featherstone's tank. Our RADAR shark had been unusually quiet today. I tapped on the side of the tank and called nicely, "Oh, Mr. Featherstone?"

Mr. Featherstone finally came to the surface, looking pensive.

"Mr. Featherstone, have you been getting 'chummy' with anyone lately?" I asked.

Mr. Featherstone mumbled a few quiet sounds in a guilty manner.

"Oh, Mr. Featherstone, you didn't," Doc sighed with disappointment. "You didn't let someone distract you with chum, did you?"

Mr. Featherstone ducked down beneath the water in shame.

"That would explain the rotten fish smell in here," I said. I tapped on the tank again and said, "Come on, Mr. Featherstone. We don't blame you. We know sharks can't resist the lure of chum."

Mr. Featherstone surfaced again and mumbled an apology.

"It's okay," Doc assured him.

"Well, not really okay," I said, picking up one of the handheld radios and calling into it. "P.T. calling Bugs. P.T. calling Doomsday. Come in!"

There was no answer.

"We don't have contact with the others," I pointed out.

"There's not much we can do about that now," Doc said. "We'd better work on deciphering the latest clue."

"Right," I agreed, and I repeated it. "I can set off the chaos when I'm in the mood; The trigger is sweet and has altitude."

We both thought about this for a moment.

Doc began, "Well, when I think of altitude, the highest point in town is . . . "

"The Krelvin Building," we both stated.

"The tallest building in the world without elevators," I added.

Doc continued, "And when I think about something sweet at the Krelvin Building I think of . . . "

"Dolly Dimples Catering Company," we both deduced.

"We have to go back to Dolly Dimples?" I asked. "Last time we were there she almost blew us up with her dodge-the-explosive-pies dance!"

"It's the only thing that makes sense," Doc pointed out. "Let's get to the Krelvin Building!"


	2. Act Two

Bugs, Doomsday and Ida paid for their admissions to the Expo and entered the grounds. "We'll have to remember to get reimbursed for our expenses," Bugs said.

"You think Sgt. Vinton will really reimburse us?" Doomsday asked.

"Well, by the looks of this place, the city must have some money to burn!" Bugs noted.

They stood and looked at the layout of the Expo before them. The city's fairgrounds had been transformed into an impressive classic-looking city. Several pavilions had been set up on the other side of a large bronze globe in the front court between the entrance and the buildings. The paths had been designed like old city streets with old-fashioned lamp posts leading down the main walkway between the buildings.

"Pretty impressive," Ida agreed.

"Where are the rides?" Doomsday asked as they walked towards the main walkway.

"It's not that kind of fair," Ida explained. "The purpose of an Expo like this is to share technology and innovations from all parts of the world."

"Or, as in the case of this Expo, from within about a hundred miles," Bugs corrected.

As they continued walking, Doomsday suddenly asked, "Bugs, when did you start smoking?"

"I don't smoke," Bugs assured him.

"Oh. Then your pants are on fire," Doomsday pointed out.

Bugs looked around quickly to see that his C.A.P.E.R. band radio, which was hanging on the back of his belt, was indeed smoking. He could feel the heat radiating from it and quickly pulled it off, holding it gingerly by the antenna as he swiped at his pants to put out any potential flames.

"That's something suspicious!" Doomsday noted. "We should call P.T.!" He lifted his radio and tried to call, apparently oblivious to the fact that his radio was smoking as well. "Doomsday calling P.T.! Come in, P.T.!" With surprise he exclaimed, "It's not working!"

"How did she know that would happen?" Bugs wondered.

"You see?" Ida asked. "You shouldn't ignore Mama's predictions!"

Doomsday's eyes grew wide. "That's right! She said your rear end would catch fire. Then does that mean . . . I'm . . . ?"

"Oh please!" Bugs scoffed. "So she got one little prediction right. It doesn't mean anything."

"But what happened to your radios?" Ida asked.

"It's obvious," Bugs answered. "Someone sabotaged them! And I'll give you one guess who it was!"

"I'm not sure I could remember that guy's name in just one guess," Doomsday sighed.

"This guy must mean business!" Bugs said intently. "We really have to pay attention to everything around us! Any little thing could be a clue!"

"I hope any little thing turns out to be food," Doomsday sighed. "I'm hungry. And so far the only thing I see anyone selling is capers."

"Capers?" Bugs and Ida asked with confusion.

"Yeah, that sign over there is advertising capers," Doomsday pointed out. "Although I don't know that I've ever eaten capers on their own before."

Bugs, Ida and Doomsday walked over to a banner that was hanging in a somewhat inconspicuous place on the side of one of the pavilions. "'Attention C.A.P.E.R.s . . . You haven't much time to do all that you can; The lights are the key to my sinister plan,'" Bugs read aloud.

"I wonder who it was written by," Doomsday wondered. "And who it's for."

"It's another one of the mad man's clues!" Bugs explained. He lifted up his radio to call, then remembered it wasn't working. "We have no way of contacting P.T. and Doc now. We'll have to figure it out on our own."

"It's something to do with lights," Ida deduced. "But there must be hundreds of lights all over the Expo!"

"There may be more clues around here for us to find," Bugs noted. "Just keep your eyes open for anything else that looks unusual!"

"And for that capers stand!" Doomsday added. "I want to try some!"

***************************************

Doc and I panted as we ran up the last few flights of stairs at the Krelvin building, which was no easy task. By the time we reached the top, we were both gasping for breath.

"We made it," I breathed heavily.

"Let's go," Doc gasped, and we entered Dolly Dimples' Catering Company.

The tables which we had previously seen covered with pies were now covered with various exotic-looking dishes. It smelled delicious. But Dolly Dimples was nowhere in sight.

"Dolly, are you here?" Doc called.

"I'm hiding!" she called from somewhere in the room. Only this time there was no giant cake in sight. There was only a large ice sculpture on the other side of the room.

"Oh, not this again!" I sighed. "Dolly, we don't have time for this. This is important!"

"I'm hiding!" Dolly teased.

"Dolly, we need your help," Doc said, then he thought a moment. "If you come out, P.T. will give you a kiss!"

"What?" I cried.

"Well, you told her that _I_ would kiss her last time!" Doc reminded me.

"And it didn't work," I reminded him. "If she won't come out to kiss _you_ what makes you think she'll come out to kiss _me?"_

Suddenly there was a flurry of movement from behind the ice sculpture and Dolly Dimples emerged. Before I could react she ran up to me and held a piece of mistletoe over my head then proceeded to give me a huge kiss.

"Merry Christmas!" she exclaimed.

"It's not Christmas!" I pointed out.

"Happy Easter!" she exclaimed.

"It's not Easter," Doc assured her.

"Happy Lent?" she tried.

"Not with all this food around," I pointed out. "Who is all this for?"

"This is for the Expo!" Dolly said proudly. "I'm catering one of the big after-parties. They're gonna love my wiener-schnitzel pasties!"

"Then we must be on the right track!" I said hopefully. "Dolly, are you serving anything sweet?"

"Besides myself?" she giggled. "No, honey, these are all savory dishes. As are you two, I might add."

"Nothing sweet at all?" Doc asked with surprise.

She shook her head.

Doc and I exchanged a confused look. "Then what could the clue have been referring to?" I asked.

The phone rang and Dolly Dimples picked it up. "Dolly Dimples Catering Company. Your wish is our dish." She listened a moment and then handed the receiver to me, saying, "It's for you. honey. Someone with a sense of humor."

I took the receiver from her. "Yes?"

"Oh, you're cold!" the familiar voice giggled. "You're so cold!"

"Who is this?" I asked.

"This is Admiral Anarchy!" the voice proclaimed.

"Who?" I asked with confusion.

"Formerly the Dastardly Distributor of Discord," the man explained seriously. "AKA the Masqueraded Marauder . . . the Chameleon of Chaos?"

"Oh," I said, then told Doc, "He's Admiral Anarchy now."

"It's shorter," Doc admitted. "But it's a bit oxymoronic."

"Is he calling me a moron?" the man cried angrily.

"There's nothing admirable about anarchy," Doc pointed out.

"Enough!" the man cried.

I motioned for Doc to put his ear to the receiver so he could listen as well.

"You're just trying to distract me from my mission! But it won't work! And you two had better get on the ball with this next clue: All I need's the machine and to insert a quarter; And just to confuse things I've called that reporter."

"You called Kurt Klinsinger?" I asked.

"That could definitely complicate things," Doc sighed.

"Don't strike out on this one!" the man laughed.

At the sound of the dial tone I hung up. "I don't think these clues are very good."

"What can we expect from someone who can't even come up with a good name for himself?" Doc asked.

"'All I need's the machine and to insert a quarter,'" I repeated.

"There's all kind of machines that take quarters," Doc pointed out. "Juke boxes, Laundromats . . . "

"He also said we should be on the ball and that we shouldn't strike out," I noted.

We thought for a moment.

"You know, there's a pinball machine at the bowling alley," I pointed out.

Doc shrugged. "Sounds about as likely as anything. Let's go."

"Oh, here," Dolly said, handing us a couple of pasties as we headed for the door. "For the long trip down."

"Thanks, Dolly," we said gratefully. Doc stopped at the doorway and then leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "That's the kiss I still owed you," he smiled.

Dolly giggled like a school girl and waved us goodbye.

***************************************

"There's gotta be another clue around here somewhere!" Bugs insisted.

"Aren't you being a little overzealous?" Ida asked timidly.

"What do you mean?" Bugs asked.

"Well . . . unplugging the merry-go-round in the Tiny-Tots Timex Time For Fun playground, for instance," Ida pointed out.

"It had lights!" Bugs noted.

"So did the General Mills Greenhouse Pavilion," Doomsday added.

"They'll get it back up to the proper temperature again . . . after a while," Bugs assured them.

"I don't know that the 'G.E. - We Bring Good Things to Life Neon Art Exhibit' will ever be the same, though," Ida sighed.

"We can't take any chances," Bugs reminded them. "We're dealing with a mad man here!"

"I'm starting to think so," Ida mumbled under her breath.

"Oh, look, another capers sign!" Doomsday pointed out. "Maybe that stand is over here!"

They hurried to the banner, which was hanging in another inconspicuous place outside the main exhibit hall which was marked "Hall of Inventions."

"'To cause utter havoc is indeed my intention; They'll all be sorry they laughed at my invention,'" Bugs read aloud. "This guy must have some issues."

"What does he mean by that?" Doomsday asked.

"I don't know," Bugs admitted. "But combined with the other clue . . . we must be looking for some kind of invention with lights on it."

"Are you sure that's what it means?" Ida asked skeptically.

"What else could it mean?" Bugs asked.

"That means we get to look through the Hall of Inventions?" Doomsday asked hopefully.

"Yes," Bugs confirmed, then he added adamantly to Doomsday, "But don't touch anything, especially not with that prediction hanging over your head."

"But I thought you said that didn't mean anything," Doomsday said worriedly.

"It doesn't!" Bugs insisted. "But . . . well, there's no sense in taking any unnecessary chances. Come on."

***************************************

I parked the Big Bologna outside the Penny Lanes Bowling Alley. As Doc and I climbed out, we saw Kurt Klinsinger pulling up behind us on his motor bike. He lifted up his goggles as we approached him.

"What's going on?" Klinsinger asked. "I got a call from some guy calling himself the Sultan of Sabotage."

"Who?" I asked.

Doc tapped my shoulder and noted, "He probably means our adversary with the identity crisis."

"Oh yeah," I realized. "Did he give you any clues as to his plans?"

"No, only that he had something sinister in mind for the World Expo," Klinsinger explained. "I'm heading over there now."

"If you happen to see Bugs and Doomsday, tell them we're still working on the clues the Dastardly Chameleon Marauder is giving us," I said.

"Who?" Klinsinger asked.

"I mean the Masqueraded Distributor of Chameleons," I tried again.

"Never mind," Doc stopped me. "Just tell them we're still on the case."

"Whatever," Klinsinger sighed, placing the goggles over his eyes again and taking off down the street.

Doc and I walked into the Penny Lanes Bowling Alley and approached the line of pinball machines against the back wall.

"Here they are," I said. "But what's the connection between these and the last clue?"

"I don't know," Doc sighed, studying the machines. "Well . . . this one is a space-themed machine. I suppose that could tie-in with the altitude clue."

"But what about the sweet part?" I asked.

A little kid was playing the space-themed pinball machine and I leaned down to talk to him. "Have you been playing this machine long?"

"'Bout an hour," the kid answered without taking his eyes off the machine.

"Was anyone else playing this machine before you?" Doc asked.

"No," the kid answered.

"Has anything unusual happened?" I asked.

"Apart from you guys asking me a bunch of questions?" the kid smart-mouthed. "No."

Doc and I looked at each other with complete confusion. Suddenly the pay phone on the wall began to ring. I walked over and picked it up. "Hello?"

"What is it with you guys?" a familiar voice asked without any laughter. "I thought you were supposed to be so smart! But you're getting it all wrong!"

"Who is this?" I asked.

"This is the Purveyor of Punishment," the voice explained.

"Who?" I asked.

"Formerly Admiral Anarchy," the man sighed impatiently. "You know . . . AKA the Dastardly Distributor of Discord . . . the Masqueraded Marauder . . . the Chameleon of Chaos?"

"The Sultan of Sabotage?" I ventured.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man moaned.

"It's Purveyor of Punishment now," I told Doc, who rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache.

"You guys aren't getting it at all!" the man yelled.

"Well, I'm sorry, but your clues aren't exactly that helpful!" I pointed out.

"Why are you at the bowling alley?" the man cried.

"You said we had to be on the ball and not strike out," I reminded him.

"That wasn't part of the clue!" the man complained.

"Well, how are we supposed to know what's part of the clue and what isn't?" I asked.

"Look, I'll give you one more chance," the man sighed. "All this running around is holding up my plans!"

I motioned for Doc to listen with me.

"Okay, here's the last clue: So close to home, you'll realize with dread; that the answer has always been over your head."

Doc and I looked at each other with confusion.

"Now don't tell me _that_ doesn't make sense!" the man stated.

"Well . . . " I sighed.

"That's it! That's your last clue! And if you don't figure it out, then that means I have the superior mind!" The man laughed and the phone went dead.

"That's a scary thought," Doc sighed as I hung up the phone.

"Well, clearly we're not supposed to be at the bowling alley," I sighed. "Come on, let's go."

As we walked out of Penny Lanes and headed for the Big Bologna, Doc looked thoughtful.

"You know, something is bothering me," Doc said.

"Trying to keep this guy's names straight?" I ventured.

"Well, that too," Doc agreed. "But no. I'm just wondering . . . clearly we're not deciphering the clues correctly or going where he wants us to go."

"Clearly," I agreed.

"So . . . how does this guy know where we are all the time?" Doc asked.

I realized Doc had a point. We both started looking around the area, trying to see if anyone could have been following us.

"Over there!" I pointed.

Across the street from us was a man standing by a phone booth, wearing some kind of yellow costume with an orange cape and mask. As soon as he spotted us looking at him, he looked startled and jumped into a bright yellow Volkswagen Bug with a wedge of cheese on top, starting the car and pulling away from the curb.

"That's him!" I cried. "Quick! We have to catch him!"

We jumped into the Big Bologna and immediately took chase.

***************************************

In the meantime, Bugs, Doomsday and Ida were walking around the large Hall of Inventions. Bugs was eyeing each and every invention suspiciously.

"What's that up there?" Doomsday asked, pointing to a large banner hanging above the exhibit hall floor.

Bugs and Ida looked up. "It's another clue," Bugs said, and he read aloud, "'The unsuspecting crowds will come under barrage; All gooey and slimy with my lovely fromage.' What is fromage?"

"I think it's cheese," Doomsday offered.

"Oh, Doomsday, don't be silly," Bugs scolded. "He's going to barrage the crowds with cheese?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please!" a voice suddenly rang out over a nearby speaker.

"What's going on?" Doomsday asked.

"Looks like there's going to be a special presentation," Ida explained.

"Let's check it out," Bugs suggested, and they walked over to where a crowd was gathering around a stage in the center of the room.

A scientist dressed in a white lab coat was standing on the stage holding a microphone and looking proud. Beside him was a pedestal covered with a large black box.

"Yes, gather around," the scientist encouraged the crowd as Bugs, Doomsday and Ida positioned themselves in front of the stage. "You won't want to miss this! It's the invention to end all inventions! Oh yes, they may have laughed at me before, but now I can positively prove that what was once thought impossible is indeed possible!"

"They laughed at him?" Bugs noted suspiciously.

"Here it is . . . believe it or not!" The scientist motioned for the box to be lifted from the display by way of strings. "The award-winning wonder of our age . . . the one and only . . . perpetual motion machine!"

The elaborate machine was not much bigger than a breadbox, and contained a small ball and pendulum center which moved back and forth in a perfect rhythm. Various small lights twinkled with each swing. "This machine has now been running for five years straight without stopping and without deriving power from any external source!" the man boasted, then he smiled. "I added the lights just for show."

The crowd 'oohed' and 'aahed' in wonder. Suddenly Bugs leapt up on the stage and shouted, "Stand back!" Before the scientist could react, Bugs reached over and grabbed the swinging pendulum and ball, bringing it to a stop. The lights immediately went out.

"There!" Bugs said proudly. "Crisis averted!"

The crowd stood stunned and the scientist gawked at Bugs in horror. "What did you do?" he cried.

"I dismantled the bomb," Bugs explained. "No need to thank me."

The scientist lurched at Bugs and grabbed him by the shirt, shaking him violently. "Thank you? I'm gonna _kill_ you!" he screamed.

"Wait a minute!" Bugs suddenly cried. "Are you an award-winning scientist?"

"Yes!"

"And you just said you were going to kill me?"

"Yes!"

"Do you know what that means?"

"I think it means I'm going to kill you!" the scientist yelled, shaking Bugs again.

"No! It means Doomsday's going to destroy the world!" Bugs gasped.

Doomsday's eyes grew wide with horror. Two of Fortuna's predictions had now come true. That could only mean . . .

As Ida ran onto the stage to try to defend Bugs from the irate scientist, Doomsday turned and pushed his way past the crowd and ran from the exhibit hall.

"Call security!" the scientist was yelling.

"I _am_ security!" Bugs insisted.

Ida grabbed Bugs and managed to pull him free from the scientist's grasp. They turned and ran from the stage just as several security guards appeared. The scene became even more chaotic as the crowd reacted to the melee and started trying to run in all directions.

"Where's Doomsday?" Bugs asked Ida as they kept low, using the confused crowd as cover to make their escape.

"I don't know!" Ida answered.

"You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him!" Bugs pointed out.

"I lost track of him, thanks to the brouhaha you caused!" Ida countered.

"We have to find him before he destroys the world!" Bugs cried as they managed to slip out through a side exit.


	3. Act Three

"Where is he going?" I asked as we continued to follow the Cheese Bug through the streets in the Big Bologna.

"It looks like he's pulling over up there," Doc noted. "Right in front of . . . "

"The police station!" we exclaimed with surprise.

"You don't suppose he's going to turn himself in?" I asked.

"That might be wishful thinking," Doc suggested.

As I pulled the Big Bologna over behind the Cheese Bug, we saw the costumed man run into the precinct. We quickly jumped out of our vehicle and hurried inside ourselves.

When we stepped into the front office we didn't see any sign of the man we'd been chasing. Sgt. Vinton was working at his desk, as were the other officers. None of them seemed to have noticed anything strange.

"Sgt. Vinton! Did you see a man in a yellow costume with an orange mask and cape run in here?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sgt. Vinton answered calmly. "He just went upstairs."

"You just let him run upstairs without stopping him?" Doc asked incredulously.

Sgt. Vinton looked at us strangely. "Sure, why not? He was here just a few days ago to fill the vending machines."

"The vending machines!" Doc and I gasped, and we hurried upstairs.

We reached the line of vending machines in the lunch room to find the costumed man waiting for us. "Ha ha!" he laughed. "You have finally uncovered my secret! You never would have guessed I'd hidden the trigger right here in the police station under your very noses. But you're too late to stop me!"

"What is it you plan to do, Captain Cheddar?" I asked.

The man looked startled and asked, "Captain Cheddar?"

"Hey, I kind of like that!" Doc said.

"It does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" I asked.

"Enough!" the man shouted. "I'm going to ruin the Expo! That's what I'm going to do!"

"But why?" I asked.

"Because they laughed at me!" the man cried.

"In that outfit, I'm not surprised," Doc commented.

"Fifteen years ago I attended the World Expo! The _real_ World Expo! I was there to introduce the world to my fabulous new invention! I had created a way to store cheese inside cans to be easily dispensed on crackers and snacks!"

"_You _invented spray cheese?" Doc asked with surprise.

The man nodded. "It should have made me millions! I was at the vanguard of a whole new industry! But did they applaud me? Did they call me a genius and beg to buy into my idea for Cheese Worms?"

"Cheese Worms?" Doc and I asked in disgust.

"That's what I called it," the man explained. "You know . . . the cheese looks like little worms when it comes out."

"I'm beginning to see what went wrong," Doc noted.

"They laughed at me! They said Cheese Worms would never sell! That it was a stupid idea!" the man continued. "And then five years later, Nabisco comes out with the very same product, only they called it Snack Mate. And it's made them millions! That success should have been _mine!"_

"Wait a minute," Doc stopped him. "This all happened fifteen years ago. Why take your anger out on our Expo now?"

"Do you know how expensive it is to travel to a World Expo?" the man asked. "Cheese Worms ruined me! I don't have any money to make extravagant trips! So when I heard Northeast Southweston was hosting its very own Expo, I knew it was my chance to finally have my revenge!"

"While we sympathize with your situation, we can't let you take it out on innocent people," I pointed out.

"Too late!" the man said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a quarter.

Doc held up his hands and spoke calmly. "Just put the quarter down and no one will get hurt."

The man turned and dropped the quarter into the candy machine, then pulled one of the knobs. We watched anxiously as he retrieved a Sky Bar from the bottom compartment and held it up, laughing. "Ha ha! I'll show you! I'll show them all! All I have to do is take one bite, setting off the remote trigger, and the Expo will be subjected to such a flood of processed cheese raining down upon them it will bring the entire event to a sticky standstill!"

We cringed as he ripped open the candy bar and took a bite. After a moment, he looked confused. He started to look more closely at the chocolate bar, picking it apart with his fingers.

"It's not here!" the man cried. "The trigger is gone! But I know I placed it in the front slot of this machine!"

Doc and I immediately turned to each other and cried, "Doomsday!"

"He bought a Sky Bar earlier today!" Doc remembered.

"And he took it to the Expo with him," I added. "Doc . . . do you realize what this means?"

The costumed man suddenly rushed past us and headed down the stairs.

"It means he's getting away!" Doc pointed out.

"It means Fortuna's prediction was right," I corrected. "But Doomsday isn't going to destroy the _world_ world. He's going to destroy the World Expo!"

"And Captain Cheddar is probably heading there right now to get to him before we do!" Doc added.

We both ran down the stairs and reached the front of the building as the Cheese Bug pulled away from the curb.

"We have to find Doomsday and the trigger before he does!" Doc said.

"And before Doomsday gets hungry," I added.

We both knew this meant we didn't have much time, so we scrambled into the Big Bologna and headed back to the Expo.

***************************************

When we arrived, I quickly parked the Big Bologna and Doc and I ran to the Expo entrance. We had already spotted the Cheese Bug parked hurriedly near the entrance, so we quickly paid admission and hurried through the gates where we were surprised to find Kurt Klinsinger talking to several security guards.

"Mr. Klinsinger, have you seen Bugs or Doomsday?" I asked.

"No, I haven't," Klinsinger answered impatiently.

"Did you see a man in a yellow costume with an orange cape and mask run by?" Doc asked.

"No, I didn't," Klinsinger answered even more impatiently.

"You don't miss much as a reporter, do you?" I asked sarcastically.

"I don't have time for this nonsense," Klinsinger complained. "There's some crazy person running around the Expo causing havoc!"

"A crazy person in a yellow suit?" I ventured.

"No, they describe this crazy person as being short, wearing glasses and a sailor's cap," Klinsinger explained. "And I'm going to find out who it is and break the story!"

"You do that," I encouraged him. "Excuse us."

Doc and I hurried away from Klinsinger and the guards. "Why would Bugs be causing havoc?" I asked.

"Maybe somebody said 'bananas' to him," Doc suggested.

"We'd better find them and fast!" I sighed.

We hurried around the center globe statue and were heading to the pavilions when we spotted Bugs and Ida making their way around the corner of one building. Oddly enough, we also saw the man in the yellow costume disappearing around the other side of the building as they came into view.

"Where's Doomsday?" Doc asked as we approached them.

"We've been looking for him," Bugs explained. "He disappeared!"

"When?" I asked worriedly.

"About twenty minutes ago," Ida answered.

"We have to find him . . . " I urged.

"And how . . . " Bugs agreed.

" . . . before he can destroy the world," Bugs and I finished at the same time.

"Two more of her mother's predictions have come true!" Bugs explained.

"And another _will _come true if we don't find Doomsday," I added. "He doesn't know it, but he has the trigger to set off a volcanic cheesy disaster of massive proportions."

"Cheesy as in low budget?" Bugs asked.

"Cheesy as in processed cheese," I explained.

"Then fromage _is_ cheese?" Bugs asked with surprise.

"Of course," Doc confirmed.

"Where have you searched?" I asked.

"Pretty much everywhere," Bugs answered. "There's just no sign of him."

"We could try paging him over the public address system," Ida suggested.

"That would be fine, except Captain Cheddar is looking for him, too," I pointed out.

"Captain Cheddar?" Bugs asked. "That guy didn't come up with that name himself, did he?"

"No, P.T. did," Doc said.

"I thought it sounded a bit too catchy to be one of his," Bugs noted.

"There has to be some way for us to find Doomsday," I thought aloud.

Doc turned to Ida and asked, "Have you inherited any of your mother's psychic abilities?"

"Why Doc!" Ida exclaimed with surprise. "What happened to Mr. Skeptic?"

"Hey, anything which might be able to help us would be appreciated about now," Doc said.

"Well, I do have a little touch of the gift, but nowhere near as good as Mama's," Ida answered.

"Do you think you could see where Doomsday is?" I asked hopefully.

"I can try," Ida said, and she closed her eyes and began to concentrate. We watched intently as her brows furrowed and she swayed slightly.

After a long moment Ida sighed and opened her eyes. "I'm afraid all I can tell you is that he's surrounded by future sweaters."

"What does that mean?" Doc asked.

"I don't know," Ida admitted. "I don't get clear visions like Mama yet."

"We're going about this all wrong," I said. "What does Doomsday love best?"

"Food," Bugs and Doc answered immediately.

"And what else does Doomsday love best?" I asked.

"Animals," Bugs and Doc again answered immediately.

"He has food, so chances are if there are any animals here, that's where he'll be," I suggested.

"I don't know if they have any animals here at the Expo," Bugs said.

"Well, there may be some alpacas," Ida offered.

"Alpacas?" Doc asked. "Really? From South America?"

Ida nodded. "I saw a display talking about how raising alpacas is the next big money-making venture of the future while we were in the Hall of Inventions."

"Don't they make sweaters out of alpaca wool?" I asked.

"Yes," Ida confirmed. "That's where the money-making part supposedly comes in, from harvesting their wool."

We suddenly realized at the same moment, "Future sweaters!"

"That's where Doomsday is, all right!" I said. "Come on, show us where this display is!"

We hurried into the Hall of Inventions and Ida led us to the booth she'd seen. They had pictures of alpacas all around and a man was extolling the value of raising the animals for their wool.

"Excuse me," I said. "Do you have any actual alpacas here at the Expo?"

"Why certainly," the man smiled. "They're behind the building. You go out the back exit there and follow the signs down to the pens. Just make sure you don't startle them. They do spit."

"Thanks," I said. "Come on."

Doc had wandered over to the stage where the scientist was crying over his now motionless perpetual motion machine. Doc looked over the contraption a moment, then shook his head. "I knew it wasn't possible," he commented.

The scientist burst into a fresh round of tears as Doc hurried to rejoin us.

***************************************

Doomsday patted the head of the alpaca that was sympathetically nudging him and sighed. "Thanks for listening, Catunta. At least you understand. If I'm going to bring about the end of the world . . . well, I just couldn't endanger my friends."

Catunta made a sharp grunting sound.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't stay here long," Doomsday promised as he pulled a candy bar from his pocket. "I'm going to go somewhere far, far away where I can't hurt anyone. I just want to have a quick bite before I start on my long journey."

Doomsday unwrapped the chocolate bar and was about to take a bite when he heard us calling his name.

"Doomsday? Doomsday, where are you?"

"I can't let them find me!" Doomsday said, setting the candy bar on one of the fence rails and getting to his feet. "Quick, where can I hide?"

Seeing us approaching, Doomsday stood behind Catunta and bent down to remain hidden.

"I don't see him," he could hear Bugs saying.

"But he must be here somewhere," he heard Ida saying.

Doomsday remained bent over, hiding behind the alpaca. So he was startled when he suddenly realized I was standing beside him.

"Oh, P.T.!" Doomsday gasped. "How did you find me?"

"Alpacas don't have six legs." I pointed to Doomsday's feet, which were clearly visible under the animal. "And they don't wear sneakers."

"Doomsday!" Bugs exclaimed when he saw us. "Why did you run away?"

"I'm going to destroy the world," Doomsday explained sadly. "I didn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Oh, Doomsday," I sighed sympathetically. "It's okay. You're not going to destroy the world. It isn't you, it's the candy bar you bought that's dangerous."

"Oh, I was just about to eat it when I heard you calling me," Doomsday explained.

"Where is it?" Doc asked.

"I set it down right here." Doomsday turned to the fence rail where he'd set the candy bar down, only it wasn't there!

"Where did it go?" I asked.

We realized there were several alpacas close by and we immediately assumed the worst.

"One of these alpacas ate it!" Bugs deduced.

We ran to different alpacas, checking their mouths for signs of chocolate (which, believe me, was not a pleasant thing to do). But we couldn't see that any of them had eaten any.

"Looking for this?" a voice suddenly called from outside the pens.

We looked up to see Captain Cheddar holding up the candy bar smugly. He started laughing and then ran away.

"We've got to stop him!" I shouted, and we took chase.

The chase took us all around the Expo. We followed the laughing, costumed man as he ducked in and out of buildings, ran circles around the lamp posts and scurried past the startled security guards and Klinsinger, who had spotted Bugs and joined in the chase.

Finally we reached the large globe statue at the front of the Expo and the man stopped, turning to us and brandishing the candy bar in victory. We screeched to a halt and the security guards and Klinsinger screeched to a stop behind us.

"We've got you now, you little Expo wrecker!" one security guard exclaimed as two of the men grabbed Bugs.

"He's not the one who's going to ruin the Expo!" I pointed the costumed man out to them_. "He _is!"

"That's right!" Captain Cheddar shouted. "As soon as I bite this candy bar, two tons of processed cheese stored beneath these very streets will shoot up out of these strategically placed lamp posts throughout the Expo and cover everyone in my beautiful, wonderful Cheese Worms!"

We watched with horror as the man took a huge bite of the candy bar. After an anxious moment, we slowly realized that nothing was happening.

"Mmm," Captain Cheddar hummed as he chewed. "Wow, this candy bar is so light and airy. It's like it melts in your mouth!"

"Doomsday, which candy bar were you about to eat?" I asked.

"My Choco-Lite bar," Doomsday answered.

"What about the Sky Bar?" Doc asked.

"Oh, I was saving that for later," Doomsday replied, pulling it from his pocket.

"Stand back!" Doc shouted, and he gingerly took the Sky Bar from Doomsday.

I noticed that Captain Cheddar was about to make a run for it. "Hold that costumed man!" I shouted to the security guards, and two of them grabbed him before he could escape.

Doc carried the Sky Bar over to a bench and set it down carefully.

"Can you dismantle it?" I asked nervously.

"Of course I can," Doc promised. "I just need a knife."

One of the security guards pulled out a pocket knife and handed it to me, which I in turn handed to Doc.

Everyone watched anxiously as Doc concentrated on the task at hand. We flinched as he carefully opened the wrapper and peeled it back. He took the knife and contemplated his next move, sweat forming on his brow.

"Which one should I cut?" Doc wondered aloud, "Which one? The fudge or the peanut? The fudge or the peanut?"

You could have heard a pin drop as Doc made his decision and slowly cut into one of the chocolate compartments. We held our collective breaths until Doc finally exhaled with relief.

"It's safe," he announced.

"Does that mean I can eat it now?" Doomsday asked.

"What is going on around here?" Klinsinger cried, then he eyed Bugs being held by the security guards and his mouth fell open. "You! You're the one they've been looking for! You're the one causing all the havoc around here!"

"It wasn't his fault," Doomsday assured him. "He was just trying to decipher the clues _that_ man left!"

"Who?" Klinsinger asked. "You mean that guy dressed like a ba . . . ?"

I clapped my hand over Klinsinger's mouth. "Don't say that word!" I cried.

Klinsinger pulled my hand away and asked, "What word?"

"That word you can never say around Bugs because it upsets him very much," I explained.

"What word?" Bugs asked.

"Oh, right!" Klinsinger remembered.

"What word?" Bugs asked.

"Never mind what word," Doc insisted.

"We'd better call the police and have them come sort all this out," one security guard said. "We'll hold both of these guys until we know what's what."

Bugs protested as the men started taking him and Captain Cheddar away.

"Come to think of it," Doomsday said to us, "why _is_ that man dressed like a banana?"

"Doomsday!" we cried.

Doomsday clasped a hand over his mouth, realizing too late what he had done.

"Ba . . . na . . . NA . . . NA . . . NA!" Bugs screamed, throwing the security guards off of him. He started going crazy, looking for something to attack. The next thing we knew he ran to the base of the giant globe statue and began rocking it.

"No, Bugs!" we shouted.

Suddenly Bugs lifted the gigantic statue up over his head like some pint-sized Atlas. With one mighty heave he threw it over our heads. It bounced once on the pavement and then rolled down the main street. People screamed and darted out of the way as it passed, striking and knocking down the lines of lamp posts in it path. As the posts toppled and fell, huge quantities of processed cheese began squirting up out of the ground. People ran for cover as the sticky, gooey mess rained down on everything in sight.

We stood, helplessly, watching the globe continue its path of destruction. Finally it reached the end of the street and crashed into the Hall of Inventions, breaking into several pieces and collapsing to the ground.

Bugs snapped out of his rage and asked, "What's happening?"

"Not much," we answered as cheese continued to rain down on us.

Doc took Ida in his arms and tried to shield her from the cheesy rain. "Well, I guess Mama's prediction came true after all," he said, nodding towards the broken globe statue, "Doomsday destroyed the world."

"_And _the World Expo," I added, still watching the ensuing chaos. "Northeast Southweston's first . . . and probably its last."

Doomsday wiped some of the cheese from his face and took a taste. "Mmm!" he smiled. "This is good! Where can we buy some of this? It would go really good with capers!"

THE END


End file.
